


cruel youth

by magesamell



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst and Humor, Character Study, F/M, Identity Reveal, enemies au, i said i wouldn't write it and then i did, marinette is the strongest person in paris, sort of kind of also a soulmate au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 13:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16220042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magesamell/pseuds/magesamell
Summary: Two teenagers are chosen to wield miraculouses. Only one becomes a superhero. Weeks later, Ladybug’s lucky charm won’t stop spitting out cats.





	cruel youth

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys am i too late for AU august? yes? no?

Ladybug grit her teeth as she caught the fourth — fourth! — spotted cat this week. She knew by now that the cat lucky charms were faulty, and did her no good. She would just have to figure out how to get the cursed item on her own tonight.

Which meant some rather unforgiving hand to hand combat.

It didn’t make sense, thought Ladybug as she stepped out of her hiding place. She was no stranger to video games, to fantasy RPGs, and she knew that Ladybug was a ranged fighter. A support role, if anything. She was not meant to handle this sort of direct confrontation. Not that she _couldn’t_ handle it — but obviously something was out of whack when her Super Secret Super Power just spat out cats instead of letting her do her damn job.

She hadn’t even really wanted to do this superhero thing, anyway — at least at first —  but it sucked doubly now that her magic fucking powers didn’t even work properly.

It was a hard fight, and she suffered a punch in the gut before she wrangled the bracelet off the young girl and smashed it to the ground.

Ladybug purified the akuma before it could fly away. She had definitely learned her lesson the first time, when it was just her against a city of stone giants. No one else had come to save the day. No one even could.

 

-o-

 

Marinette flopped onto her bed.

“Another cat, Tikki.”

Her ancient god fairy mentor didn’t say anything, but Marinette heard her crunching steadily through a cookie.

“You’re sure you don’t know what it means?” Marinette tried not to sound desperate, although she was.

The crunching stopped. “I only grant you powers, Marinette. It’s the miraculous magic that conjures the item.”

The kwami still sounded like she was not saying something. It made Marinette want to break things. Becoming a superhero had never made her feel more powerless. Turns out it was just another job where the powers that be kept you forcibly in the dark. Lame. _Exhausting_.

“It is unusual,” Tikki admitted, “for it to keep conjuring the same thing. But you are doing so well, Marinette!” Tikki chirped, whizzing up to hover near her chosen’s face. “If it becomes a problem, then we’ll solve it together.”

“And it’s not already a problem?” Marinette smarmed, throwing her hands in the air. “How could it become _more_ of a problem? My powers aren’t working!”

“No, they are working.” Tikki said slowly. “Please, trust me, Marinette. Let’s just wait a little longer.”

Wait for _what_ , Marinette wanted to argue, but she was a tired teenager who had two tests and had suffered three akuma attacks this week, so instead, she rolled over, turned her back to the kwami, and fell asleep.

 

-o-

 

The _what_ came weeks later. Usually, Marinette didn’t answer her phone while playing Mecha Strike  at risk of jeopardizing her scoreboard standings, but the stress of her whole stupid situation was making her feel a little hungry for attention. So she answered Alya on the third ring, her right shoulder hunched up to hold the phone to her ear.

“You will _not_ believe it, girl! There’s a new superhero!”

Marinette dropped her phone, which clattered noisily against the controller in her lap. Scrambling, Marinette retrieved it quickly before exiting her online match.

“What? Explain!”

Alya chattered excitedly on speakerphone, and Marinette could hear the dull thumps of Alya’s fingertips scrolling down her feed. “It’s not on TV yet, but on Twitter — there’s a black cat following an akuma —“

“There’s an akuma?” Marinette yelped, standing up from her desk. She needed to figure out some sort of alert system, or, alternatively, self actualize as a teen and glue herself to her phone. Ladybug was the only one that could do anything about the akumas, so Marinette had to be in the know.

Well, she had _thought_ she was the only one.

“Yeah,” Alya said, “but the real news is there’s another hero! So far they’ve just been chasing it, but—“

“That’s awesome, Alya,” Marinette said, her gaze catching Tikki’s gaze as the kwami hovered over. The tiny God’s expression was totally unreadable. “Can you tell me later? I have some bread that needed to be out of the oven, like, yesterday.”

Marinette ends the call before Alya can protest, glaring at Tikki.

“A cat, huh?”

“Marinette—“

“Transform me.” She didn’t want to hear it.

 

-o-

 

A flying witch with a parasol was whipping up a whirlwind in Paris, leaving several billboards black and scorched as she reaved destruction onto the city. Ladybug hadn’t yet figured out _why_ exactly, or for that matter, even gotten close to the akuma, when she was unceremoniously tackled to the ground.

She and her attacker tumbled over the street, rolling several times before she landed on her back, her heading knocking back against the pavement.  Ladybug opened her eyes to piercing neon green. A black cat breathed heavily over her as he pinned her between his arms, his blonde hair falling into her face, eyes wide like he was purposefully showing off his inhuman schelera. Ladybug would have been scared herself if she didn’t notice the bright, hot fear in his own eyes.

“Who are y—”

But she stopped when the cat reached for her ears with pinched claws. Ladybug rolled out from under him, quickly getting to her feet. In a breath she whirled to face him, whirring open her yo-yo.

“Stupid,” Ladybug muttered to herself. “He’s an akuma.”

“I’m not an akuma,” the cat said tonelessly, standing up.

“You reached for my miraculous!” She shot at him, spinning her yo-yo in front of her defensively.

The cat drew some sort of metal stick from behind him, and it extended until it was the length of a staff. And he charged.

Whatever it was worth, the cat was right. He couldn’t possibly be an akuma by the way he fought. Akumas were emotional, passionate to a fault, easily distracted. But the cat was nimble, persistent, even-keeled as he parried her strikes and kept up a constant assault, closing the distance between them.

Ladybug wanted to scream. She wasn’t built for close combat! She was a support, she had all her points in _luck,_ not —

Abruptly, thunder boomed like a thousand underwater gunshots overhead, and the sky split open in flashing veins of purple-white.

Right. The akuma. Ladybug turned her gaze back towards the cat, who was still staring wide-eyed at the sudden storm.

How was she supposed to do this? Two against one? That wasn’t fair. None of this was _fair_.

But for now, the cat was distracted. Ladybug turned heel and ran towards the lightning.

 

-o-

 

It ended of the roof of the television studio. Climatika’s hailstorm bit at Ladybug’s cheeks, and a ridiculous part of her brain judged tonight’s frankly apocalyptic events as an excellent and serendipitous exfoliation session.

(It was the little things that kept Ladybug from diving under her duvet and never coming up, akumas be damned.)

She thought it was over when the cat summoned a dark, acrid energy in his hand. He swiped at her with it a few times, and as she sidestepped the clawed hand that flew past her nose, Ladybug knew just by the proximity that _that_ magic had to be far more biting that any mere hailstone. She was proven right when she stuck her foot out, making the cat stumble and catch himself on the metal railing with both hands. With faint horror, Ladybug watched a blue black rust erupt from his palm and spread like wildfire throughout the entire beam, dissolving the platform Climatika was standing on.

The akuma shrieked, carelessly dropping her parasol as she struggled to remain afloat. Ladybug threw her yo-yo at once, retrieving the cursed item and throwing it onto the unforgiving rooftop. Ladybug wanted to cry of relief when she saw the corrupted butterfly flutter out. Before her luck ran out she threw her unused lucky charm in the air, chanted her healing charm, and purified the akuma.

Aurore Beauréal fell onto her knees, panting in distress and confusion, but Ladybug made no move to comfort her. Her eyes were fixed on the cat on the other side of the rooftop. He stared back at her impassively.

And then, impossibly loud in the tense silence, his ring beeped. _A miraculous_ , Ladybug realized, as she watched him visibly panic. _He has a miraculous_.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it quickly before turning away and drawing his staff.

“Why are you helping Papillon?” Ladybug shouted at him, but he had already vaulted off the rooftop into the cityscape.

When Ladybug finally looked away, Aurore was staring at her with apparent anxiety. “Does that mean there’s a new supervillain?”

 

-o-

 

It was all over the media. Every screen in Paris was broadcasting the blurry red and black and purple footage of the fight in the storm. Ayla’s blog was getting more traffic than ever, but she still bemoaned the fact she hadn’t been able to see any of the newcomer herself, who since this afternoon had been named, irrevocably and, rather unoriginally, Chat Noir.

“This is bad,” Tikki said, fluttering anxiously. Marinette looked up from reading Ayla’s texts.

“Are you finally gonna tell me what is going on?”

The god sighed. “This wasn’t supposed to happen, Marinette! Ladybug isn’t meant to be alone. She’s supposed to have a partner.”

Marinette blinked. And then her eyes narrowed. “You mean Chat Noir,” she said softly. She ran through the fight in her mind, trying to remember any hesitation, any evidence of what Tikki said was true. Marinette shook her head. “But he attacked me!”

“It’s worse than that. The ladybug and cat miraculouses are always activated together. He should have gotten his powers at the same time you did.”

“He didn’t show up until today,” Marinette said, a deep seated unease starting to settle in her chest.

Tikki nodded. “Something happened. Fast. Before Plagg could teach him to transform.”

“He must have been discovered,” Marinette said tonelessly, trying and failing to keep herself from following that fact to its logical conclusion. “Papillon has him.”

Marinette looked at Tikki despairingly. “How could Papillon find a miraculous that fast?”

Tikki shook her head. “I don’t know.”

 

-o-

 

After that, it became obvious the akumas were not the real threat. Some of them were certainly destructive, but they were only meant to lure her out.

Her true enemy was Chat Noir.

That said, the best way to avoid Chat Noir and his palmful of pure corrosive energy was to defeat the akuma itself. Usually during the ridiculous three-way chase, the cat would try to trap her using his power, which in neat parallel to her own powers, set him on a countdown to detransformation. Even when he didn’t use cataclysm, he was almost always gone by the time Ladybug summoned her healing charm.

Chat Noir was incredibly tight-lipped for a villain. He didn’t respond to goading, barely made a sound when struck, and showed no signs of disappointment when she invariably, like clockwork, purified the akuma and thwarted his attempts to capture her miraculous again and again. He was like an automaton. It was creepy.

Akumas she could handle. Akumas begged for sympathetic ears, were undeniably human in their pain and rage and sorrow. But Chat Noir was a shadow, a silent image cast by another. He was terrifying because he was a boy — a boy her age. His yoke never dissolved in a flurry of red and black insects.

What had Papillon _done_ to Chat Noir for him to act this way? He was supposed to be her partner. He was supposed to be the one chosen, just like her, to defend the city. He wasn’t supposed to be evil.

Marinette knew there had to be some kind of learning curve in becoming the personification of creation and good luck, but it really was typical of her to have the bad luck of having her only ally switch over to the dark side before she could even _meet_ him.

All of it made her sad. It made her tired. It made her wish she was never chosen.

 

-o-

 

The only bright side to the Chat Noir mess was that her miraculous stopped spitting out cats. Instead, it had moved on to teapots.

“This sucks,” Ladybug hissed to herself, tucking the third consecutive teapot under her arm as she spun her yo-yo into a shield, deflecting Chat Noir’s thrusts. “This _fucking_ sucks. I’m gonna _lose_ my _mind_.” Her every word was punctuated by the clang of his staff against her yo-yo.

Chat Noir didn’t react at all to her self-beration, and that infuriated her too.

“Don’t look so glum, catboy!” She dipped her head, smiling in exhausted cheer. “Even if an teapot miraculous shows up, I promise you’ll always be my favorite backstabber!”

Like always, it was like talking to a brick wall. Ladybug had to shift herself to accommodate the teapots weight while covering herself with the shield. After the fight was done, she tilted the teapot upside down, scanning for any hint or clue hidden in the red and black spots. Nothing. As always.

“Nobody told me being a superhero would involve so much betrayal,” Ladybug bit out, annoying herself with her own dramatics. She tossed the teapot upward with feeling.

 

-o-

 

Tikki sighed when Marinette mentioned the teapot.

“I didn’t want to do this,” the kwami worried. “It’s dangerous. But this situation is already dangerous.”

Marinette watched her closely. “Please Tikki. Tell me. I’m so tired of doing nothing.” She forced herself to keep breathing evenly, to not let herself cry. But she was worn down. She felt like one teapot away from breaking.

Tikki’s large eyes swum with guilt. “Okay. We’ll see the guardian. He can help. He _will_ help, Marinette.”

But Tikki’s nervous twitch told Marinette she wasn’t as confident as she pretended

 

-o-

 

The miraculous guardian was her mother’s tea grocer.

“Oh!” Marinette said, blinking in recognition. She held up the fist that had been knocking on his door stupidly for moment, before retracting it to her side, where she self-consciously touched her shoulder strap. She wasn’t sure how to address him.

“Hello, Ladybug,” the old man greeted, warm and amicable.

“...Hello.” Even Tikki didn’t call her Ladybug. “Uh, you know why I’m here?”

“Certainly.” He ushered her in, made her take some tea. “I am Master Fu, the guardian of the miraculous. I was the one that chose you, and Chat Noir.” He sat opposite her.

Marinette picked up her teacup, took a small sip. She could feel Fu watching her. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a tiny green _something_ sleeping on a record player.

The guardian sighed. “I want to apologize, Ladybug. Clearly, I made some tactical mistakes, and burden of those mistakes’ consequences fell on you.”

“It’s okay,” Marinette found herself saying, though it wasn’t. “That’s — um, that’s a kwami, right?”

Fu glanced behind him, smiling softly. “Yes, that is my kwami, Wayzz.”

Her cup settled on its plate with a sharp sound. “How many miraculouses are there?”

The guardian’s eyes flashed with humor. “Would you like to see?”

 

-o-

 

Marinette watched the case click closed, forced herself to breathe evenly, to swallow down all her questions and prioritize.

Still, it burst out of her before she was quite ready.

“If you have all those miraculouses, couldn’t you just summon another hero to help me?”

Fu turned, his smile slipping. “No. You must understand, Ladybug — Marinette. It is dangerous for a miraculous to be active. It dangerous there are so many active right now. I do not want to arm Papillon any more than I already have.”

Marinette thought about all that jewelry, thought about faceless, corrupted heros turning against her in battle. She crossed her arms over her chest, dipping her head down.

“It’s dangerous that I’m even here, talking to you, isn’t it?”

“If Papillon knew there was a guardian in the city, he would most certainly try to steal every miraculous under my watch.”

Like Chat Noir. More people. More victims. Okay. Okay. That meant—

She was startled out of her thoughts by a hand on her shoulder.

“I realize this is a lot of responsibility on you, Marinette,” Fu said, “but you must know that you are not alone. You have your kwami, and you have me. Us meeting was a risk worth taking. One we must take.”

Marinette looked at him, blinking. “I mean no disrespect, but during a fight — I’m always alone. It’s always two against one.”

Fu nodded deeply. “I know. But you are a very strong girl, with a very powerful miraculous. You mustn’t underestimate your own capability.”

Marinette uncrossed her arms, huffing. “But my powers keep telling me I need someone else! First Chat Noir, and then you.” She pointed accusingly at his teapot.

Fu gave her that same, guilty stare Tikki had doled upon her that night. “I won’t pretend that this isn’t an unusual situation,” he said. “It is cruel. And it isn’t fair. It’s true Ladybug isn’t meant to work alone.”

Marinette nearly threw up her hands and blurted a relieved, told-you-so _thank you!_ But Fu wasn’t finished.

“Yes, she’s not designed to work alone. But she can, if she must. Her power of creation will lend her the tools to success.” He gestured to Tikki, who landed on Marinette’s shoulder. Marinette considered her kwami for only a moment before Fu captured her attention again, his voice lower, worried.

“However, Chat Noir alone is very dangerous indeed. Destruction unchecked, destruction _misapplied_ for Papillon’s selfishness...it is frightening, Marinette.”

Yes, she thought. Chat Noir destroyed things. Made any and everything crumble and dissolve. She had seen him dissolve entire buildings, when he missed his swipe at her. Yes, he was frightening.

“This is why you must not close your heart to Chat Noir.”

“What?” She stared at the guardian, who folded his hands across his lap as if the issue was done and decided. “What do you mean?”

Quietly, knowingly, Fu spoke: “Your miraculous produced those charms because it knows your best chance of success lie with him. And he is in a dangerous situation, where he is being manipulated. But that does not mean he is beyond our reach.”

“You can’t be serious. He attacks me every chance he sees me.”

“I fear asking you too much Marinette, but when you can — _if_ you can. Reach out to him.”

She laughed disbelievingly, willing away the tears that threatened to prick at her eyes.

“If you see opportunity, take it. Let him know that this is where he belongs.”

Marinette sighed, crossing her arms again. “What would I even say?”

“Say that Papillon would be woefully outgunned if the ladybug and black cat miraculouses were working together again.”

 

-o-

 

Marinette walked home, clenched fist and white-faced, shivering with anger against the dreary cold. The percussion of the rain against her umbrella made her head hurt.

So she was supposed to save this boy by _convincing_ him? Patter on about love and hope and yin and yang like it would even matter? Like it could magically solve the fact he’s being controlled?

Stupid. _Stupid_ she was alone and no adults would actually help her. Stupid she had to be the lone pillar of optimism and good humor against the overflowing tide of Paris’ hurt and trauma. She was only sixteen. She couldn’t possibly be the one responsible for this.

Marinette weaved through the crowd, bristling when a stranger’s umbrella poked her side.

She didn’t consider herself naturally charismatic, or particularly forgiving. She wasn’t the type to offer redemption. If anything, Marinette could easily admit, she was judgmental. She judged people, categorized them. If they were good, she was nice. If they were like Chloe, she acted accordingly.

Marinette had already decided Chat Noir was her enemy. He made her life harder. He battled her day in and day out, indifferent to the gross and obvious suffering of Papillon’s victims.

But there was something else about him that plucked at her ire. Because she knew now, what Ladybug had been missing. A close combat specialist, obstruction-ridding magic, an offense to her defense. It buzzed in her brain incessantly. She knew he was supposed to be her partner, and not just because Tikki and Fu had told her. She could see him, in her head, highlighted again and again in every survey of the battlefield, every discarded strategy. He was her missing variable.  

And Marinette, stomping through the refractive rainy Parisian streets, felt it like an ache.

 

-o-

 

The first time was a mistake. Or a success. Ladybug had been readying herself to vault off a rooftop when she realized she wasn’t alone.

Shrieking was perhaps not the best tactical decision. But they had surprised each other, and Chat Noir yelped just as loud, if not louder.

Then they just stared at each other. Ladybug gripped her taut yo-yo line, waiting.

After a tense moment, Chat Noir — miraculously — grinned. “You can relax. I’m not going to fight you.” He turned his head, and Ladybug could see he was just...sitting, on the edge of the rooftop.

“I didn’t even know you were here,” Ladybug said quickly. Not like she needed to justify herself.

He chuckled. “Yeah, that was kinda the idea.”

Ladybug watched him. She had heard his voice before, but not like this. Not in conversation. She retracted her yo-yo. Its ensuing whizzing noise was very loud in the silence.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Enjoying the city.” His neon eyes cornered her like headlights. “What are _you_ doing out here?”

That stalled her. What had she been doing? It had started, of course, since Chat Noir showed up. Whenever she had free time at night, she suited up, desperate to practice her skills and do a quick survey of the city. Patrolling, would maybe be the word, but really — really she was—

“Looking for me?” He grinned again, and the moonlight caught his elongated fang. “I’m flattered, Ladybug.”

“I wasn’t!” Ladybug snapped. “I wasn’t looking for you.”

“Suuuure you weren’t.”

The smug tick to his tone made her blood boil, but before she could retaliate, Fu’s unofficial orders popped mercilessly into her head. Breathe. Okay, here was opportunity. Talk. She just had to talk.

“I do have questions,” Ladybug hedged.

Chat Noir stood up, stretched lazily. “Tough luck,” he pronounced, refusing to look at her. And he disappeared into the night.

 

-o-

 

She couldn’t stop thinking about the accidental meeting. Even after she told Tikki everything, Marinette felt compelled to go over ever detail in her head again.

She had never expected to see him smile — like a Chesire cat, wide and haunting. She hadn’t expected for him to be arrogant, for him to tease her. The pieces of what she knew of him kept slipping, failing to gel in a single thought, a single person. He was smug, he was stone-faced, he didn’t want to be found, he hunted her aggressively, he enjoyed the nighttime cityscape, he was so terrified, his fear like an open wound bleeding onto her face.

And he hadn’t fought her. He wasn’t bound to Papillon’s will. Not totally.

She would try again.

 

-o-

 

As it turned out, she would try many times. Many, many times. Enough clipped greetings and arms outstretched to turn her stomach. Haunting the black cat was no fairy-tale and she was a fool following the thin tether of fate between them. He didn’t listen to her just because she spoke. He wouldn’t stay just because she asked.

The pulsing beat of rejection pricked at the based on her skull, making her elbow slip against her desk and causing Marinette to fall face-first into tomorrow’s literature homework.

She let herself stay there, turning her face into the wood and paper.

“What if he never lets me talk to him again? What if I never help him?”

A small buzzing pressure let Marinette know Tikki was by her cheek. She nudged her head, leaning into the touch.

“He won’t let me get close at all,” she mused, replaying the scene of tonight’s latest attempt in her mind, a mirror of all of her doomed ventures for the past two months. “I’m literally on a countdown after I save the day, you know. Doesn’t really lend itself to heart-and-mind changing inspirational speeches.”

The unfocused text of her literature homework loomed just beyond her nose. Marinette sighed.

Tikki nuzzled her, and spoke in quiet, clear tones: “He’s scared, Marinette. Like you. You two have a connection —  you just haven’t found it yet.”

Marinette sat up. “ _I_ know we have a connection! It’s him that doesn’t want anything to do with m— it!” She crossed her arms grumpily. “It’s like he’s afraid of _me_.”

“Remember the situation he’s in, Marinette. How would you be feeling if you were alone and being held hostage by Papillon?”

“I mean, probably not great,” Marinette said. “You’re not exactly helping with me feeling totally and completely _overwhelmed_.”

Tikki smiled kindly. “Why don’t you leave that until tomorrow,” she suggested, zipping down toward the literature homework. “You should catch up on your sleep instead.”

 

-o-

 

Ladybug winced at the piercing shriek of metal against metal, but refused to relent a millimeter to the akuma. A sword fight in the basement of the Louvre wasn’t exactly her idea of a relaxing Saturday afternoon, but she had to admit — even in the heat of battle — it probably looked pretty cool.

Not that anybody would be seeing her since she had lured the akuma to a contained battlefield. Oh well, Ladybug thought as she sidestepped Riposte’s jab. At least Chat Noir was nowhere to be found.

With that blessing Ladybug could focus on the fight without always looking over her shoulder. Still, when the battle was over and the poor girl ushered back to her cab home, Marinette ducked into an alley just long enough for Tikki recharged and summoned her transformation again, beginning an immediate patrol.

It didn’t quite make sense, but Riposte must have been a distraction. Fu had replied to her message and let her know that he was fine and that all miraculouses were accounted for, but still Ladybug couldn’t let go of Chat Noir’s disappearance. Something must be coming, or something must have happened. A bigger target than her miraculous. Though if it wasn’t Master Fu, then what could it possibly be?

Ladybug sighed, and decided she’d best head over to the guardian’s place anyway. She’d feel better seeing the miraculous herself.

 _Surely he couldn’t be_ busy? Ladybug thought, swinging herself into the air. Hostages of Papillon couldn’t be busy, could they?

She landed roughly, her foot slipping into a gutter. And as she began to right herself, she felt a hand close around her forearm. She turned to retaliate but a pair of neon green streetlight eyes halted her attack.

As soon as she was on more secure footing Chat Noir let go of her like he was stung, shoulders jumping suspiciously. Ladybug narrowed her eyes.

“Are you _laughing_?” she accused.

He turned his head, and Ladybug caught an upturned smile and inhuman canine. “I can’t believe you just let me grab you.”

“I’ve been looking for you,” she said, sidestepping the question. “You’ve been running away.”

Chat Noir blinked at her. And then, like her, evaded: “Thank you—”

“ _What_?”

“—for helping that girl. She didn’t deserve...what happened.”

Ladybug looked at him — hadn’t been able to to take her eyes on him since he lifted her onto the roof. But his expression was guarded despite his bright, blaring eyes. But she couldn’t let this go. She had to keep him talking.

“You know her,” she guessed. “The fencer.”

Chat Noir averted his gaze, and she knew she was right even before he nodded in confirmation.

“None of them deserve what happens to them,” she said quietly. And then, daring to push him further, asked: “Why weren’t you at the fight?”

“I...was running. I couldn’t transform.”

“You were there. You saw her get akumatized.”

“Yeah.”

Guilt was dripping off of him like melting candy. Slow, and steady — if she could push him even further, if she could alight his conscience — the first step had to be admitting the problem. So Ladybug opened her mouth to speak—

“She was akumatized because of me,” Chat Noir muttered quickly. “It’s never happened like that before.”

Ladybug blinked, processing. Riposte had been hunting someone when Ladybug met up with her, but she had goaded the akuma easily away from the civilians with promises of an honorable duel. That meant — Chat Noir had been there. Right under her nose. If only she had known somehow. God, she should have known it was him—

“A-anyway,” Chat stuttered, seemingly unnerved by her unselfconscious staring. “I just — wanted to say that.”

“You can talk to me,” Ladybug blurted. “I want to talk to you. I want us to talk.”

He was shaking his head, the same bitterly amused smirk back on his face. “Why — why would you want that?”

“The same reason you wanted to talk to me about Riposte.”

Because neither of them had anyone else to talk to. Because both of their kwamis were helpless to do anything about the unnatural situation in which the two of them were caught.

Chat Noir stepped back from her, sputtering. “I— I told you that for no reason at all. You’re just _here._  We bumped into each other. That’s it. It’ll never happen again.”

“That seems unlikely!” She yelled as he lept up and into the darkness.

 

-o-

 

Marinette added _guilty conscience_ to the list of Things She Knew About Chat Noir on her phone. Below it, she wrote: _fencer???_

 

-o-

 

“Well, this was a bust,” Marinette said, closing the door of the locker room. She sighed and took off her helmet.

Alya did the same. “Where did you even hear this rumor?”

“I told you going in that it was from reddit,” said Marinette with a huffing, pulling down her zipper. “You’re the one that said we should _infiltrate the fencing team_ based on some random shit I read _online_.”

Alya kicked her boots off. “You _know_ I have no impulse control when it comes to supers. Like, you say you read Chat Noir is a fencer and I’m _not_ supposed to stake out every fencing club in the city?”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Marinette. “Because there was no mysterious brooding blonde. Only rich homeschoolers and anime weebs.”

“And rich homeschooled anime weebs.” Alya grinned. Marinette groaned.

“Can we leave now? Nino said he has a tip on André.”

 

-o-

 

Weeks passed. Marinette kept tagging along to Ayla’s useless fencing stakeouts. She needed to feel like she was making progress, even though Chat Noir refused to speak to her. It wasn’t even a lead. It was a shred of a guess. But after she planted the seed of the idea on the internet, forums bloomed with analyses of Chat Noir’s combat style and close readings of Alya’s video of his duel with a possessed knight. The akuma that night had been chaotic. Barely accepted Chat Noir as his ally, until he didn’t, and decided he would make a much better transformed minion.

Akumas with minions were the worst. Ladybug landed on the roof of the Dupain-Cheng bakery, rolling her neck. Her long night was over.

“Hey.”

Ladybug slapped her hands over her mouth to muffle her scream. She turned around to a smug Chat Noir perched on her balcony railing. _Don’t let him know it’s your balcony railing_.

“Did I scare you?”

“Sneaking up on people will do that.”

“You really should have drawn your yo-yo instead of pawing at your face.”

Ladybug narrowed her eyes. “Akumas aren’t generally the sneaking type.”

Chat Noir rocked back and forth on the railing. “True enough. Hey, thanks for today. Being a possessed minion is not nearly as fun as the movies would have you believe.”

Ladybug blinked. Once again, unimpressed. “Try being akumatized,” she suggested. She knew she was supposed to be nice to him—

He laughed piercingly loud.

—but it had been a really, _really_ long day and she just didn’t want to deal with whatever emotional fallout this was.

“I have,” Chat Noir said, shaking his head with a smile.

Well. She hadn’t actually known that.“You...have?”

Chat’s neon eyes stared at her. He blinked, and slowly raised his hand, waggling his fingers at her. “He used this when the akumatization failed, after all.”

Ladybug stared at his ring. “He really akumatized you?”

Chat Noir laughed again. “Yes, but you wouldn’t remember. Nor should you. I have a secret identity to maintain.”

And beyond all human reason, he winked at her.

“When you say failed…”

Chat Noir hopped off the railing, bent at the waist to peer at her plants. “I mean you defeated me so handily I barely had time to catch a glance of your miraculous, much less take it.” When he stood, Ladybug was surprised to find him much closer than she expected. She watched his gaze slide cleanly from her clavicle, to her shoulder, to her face.

What?

“Miraculous users are much more powerful than akumas,” Chat Noir said, gesturing to her earrings. “Obviously. You gotta fight fire with fire.”

Ladybug tilted her head away, resisted the urge to flinch. “Why are you even here? What are you doing out here with no akuma?”

“Because he can’t control me when I’m transformed.”

Ladybug sputtered. “Uh, you try to snatch my fucking earrings every time you’re transformed.” She wanted to laugh. She felt dizzy from it.

Chat Noir turned away abruptly, becoming absorbed in her plants once more. “There’s no use in explaining it to you,” he said quietly. He reached for his staff.

Ladybug grabbed his wrist. “No! No, please stay.” She swallowed, ignored the suspicion in his eyes. “I want to listen.”

He just looked at her.

“Tell me why you are helping him. I’ll try to understand. I promise.”

She watched him think it over, but before she could intervene again, Chat Noir curled his fingers around her wrist and pulled her over to the balcony.

“He knows where I live, Ladybug. He knows where I am at all times. But not...when I’m out here.”

Ladybug followed his gaze to the wide cityscape. The soft cacophony of traffic and voices.

“He sees akuma. He gives him them orders,” Ladybug said.

“I’m not an akuma.” He hunched his shoulders, dipping his head. Ladybug felt an apologetic tug in her chest.

“I know,” she said. “I know that.”

The traffic light changed. Car engines revved and growled.

Chat was quiet for some time. When he spoke, it was halting whisper. “I know it’s...ironic. But when I’m Chat Noir, I feel...I feel free.” He gazed at her sidelong, a resigned smile creeping across his face. “That’s real stupid, huh?"

Ladybug exhaled, breath coming hot and fast as the words rushed out. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Chat,” she said, turning toward him. “We were supposed to work together. We were _meant_ to be together.”

Chat’s lip quirked. “No,” he said, chuckling disbelievingly. “Forgive me if I have a hard time believing the personification of bad luck was supposed to on the good guy’s side. Look at me!” He gestured abruptly, dismissively at his suit. “Textbook evil. I’ve got matching powers, too.”

“No,” Ladybug said, shaking her head. “No, it’s — it’s about balance. Yin and yang, right? Good luck and bad luck. Destruction and creation. We were gonna be partners.”

For many moments, Chat was unresponsive. But then, faster than she was prepared for, he turned toward her, his face close, his cheek nearly brushing hers.

Ladybug jumped back, her hands clutching protectively at her ears. Chat’s eyes narrowed, and he straightened up, glaring at her accusingly.

“Partners, huh? And how was that gonna work?” He shook his head, nearly laughing. Like it was a joke. “You could never trust me.”

Ladybug put down her hands, eyes narrowing as well. “You’ve given me no reason to trust you!”

“I’m just saying you’re hypocritical, LB.” His jaw tightened. “You expect me to risk my life, to abandon my f — safety, just because you think we were _meant to be_?” His words shook and shuddered, and Ladybug could’t place the emotion for longing or anger.

“No, I expect you to do it because it’s the right thing to do!” she said hotly, crossing her arms in front of her.

Chat Noir laughed at that. The sound of it washed over her like acid. “Yeah,” Chat Noir said, always smiling, always bitterly blithe. “Well, I’m a supervillain.”

Ladybug stared at him. “I don’t believe that,” she said resolutely, angrily. “You think you’re _safe_?” She scoffed. “You’re in danger. You will always be in the danger while Papillon influences you. You may think you have some protection because of the miraculous,” Ladybug said, leaning into him, making him hear her. “But you’re disposable. The moment you take my miraculous he’s going to do whatever it takes to snatch that ring from you to get what he wants.”

Chat closed his eyes, screwed up his face. “You don’t know that. I could convince him—“

“There is no convincing him!” Ladybug interrupted, raising her voice. “He’s been terrorizing the city for months. He’s captured and manipulated a minor for no reason other than he has the power and he can.” Ladybug caught herself trembling, and stepped back.  Save it. Save the rage.

Ladybug recrossed her arms, glancing back toward the city. “What he doesn’t know is every second he spends controlling you is another second you get to realize that he’s not your destiny.”

When she looked back at him, she saw Chat Noir’s eyes shining far too brightly for comfort, and she had to look away again.

“Listen, my kwami took me to the g—guy who picked us. The one who gave us the miraculous. And you were chosen to, you know,” Ladybug gestured vaguely. “Fight evil. You belong with me. We were chosen for each other.”

She tried looking at him then, and almost gasped at his expression: stricken and astounded and absolutely hanging on her every word.

“To work together,” Ladybug said evenly. She sighed. “You’re right — I don’t trust you now. But I could. I know I can.”

What she didn’t add, what she couldn’t say — was that she could _feel_ it. Feel the magic between them, the imprint of him on her, the cosmos longing to know itself, the electrons yearning to chase each other. She tried to imagine what it would have felt like — to be bonded with him immediately, and the sheer possibility of it was overwhelming. Working together. Being a team. Sharing jokes. Having someone else in this stupid city understand what’s it like to have no one understand. Not having to be alone.

But that’s not the world she lived in. Marinette had to deal with her reality. She had to deal with the boy that was stolen before their future had even begun.

Chat Noir hadn’t said anything at all, only swallowed twice. “You’re wrong. About my destiny.”

He looked at her, eyes wide with panic. Unhappiness tugged at his mouth, and he looked truly apologetic when he said, helplessly: “He’s — I can’t leave him.”

And he ran.

 

-o-

 

“Hello! Ladybug! Hey, Ladybug! Yes! This is Alya from the Ladyblog. Can you comment on the akuma today?”

[The videos hops and skips before jaggedly focusing on a masked face. The superhero stares in wariness. She blinks, and the wariness melts to recognition, a tired smile curving her lips.]

“The akuma is gone. No more zoo animals. Everyone is safe now.”

“Yes, but the battle—”

[The girl laughs, and the entire images vibrates as it zooms out to show her hands on her hips]

“Just because Chat Noir managed to get a hit off doesn’t mean I didn’t have everything under control. My lucky charm even took care of the bruises.”

[Her smile is wide but her eyes are dim, and she taps a gloved finger on her cheekbone.]

“Ladybug, don’t you think since Papillon recruited an ally you should have someone join your team as well? Like a sidekick or something?”

[The superhero laughs again, cocking her hip. She looks one way, and another, her hair washing and waving in a blur. Her blue eyes catch the camera.]

“That does sound smart. Huh. I should take applications. Let me know if you know of anybody, yeah?”

[She winks, draws her yo-yo.]

“Bug out!”

 

-o-

 

Ladybug poked the wall of vines with two fingers. It didn’t budge, or even dimple.

“Well. We’re stuck.”

Chat Noir had turned away from her, sitting curled up on the opposite end of the hovel. Not that there was many ends of the enclosure. The akuma had trapped them in a woven basket of vine and plant matter, a dome perhaps four or five feet in diameter. Enough room to turn around in — if you squatted — but certainly not enough room for Chat Noir to ignore her.

He did so anyway, glaring at green and stubbornly refusing to look at her.

Ladybug sighed, looking away. They could comfortably sit back to back, if it weren’t for the self conscious gravity that pricked and pulled at them. As it was, both of them sat as close to the edge of the dome as possible, leaning close and closer to the mass of vegetation. Like staring would solve anything.

Floraliberator had been single-minded, hell bent on turning Paris into a garden of Eden. She hadn’t appreciated Chat Noir using cataclysm to navigate the overgrown rooftops.

 _You’re just like my boss,_ the akuma cried. _You have no appreciation for the beauty of Mother Earth. How dare you let my garden die!_

More and more, the akumas grew frustrated at the miraculous seizing mission, and they tended to take it out on Chat Noir. It was like he was the middle manager in Papillon’s pyramid scheme of evil. The dysfunction made easy targets for Ladybug.

Well, when she wasn’t trapped like a insect in her own little bio-dome. Ladybug sniffed, blinked blearily eyes against the dimness of the cave. It warm. Sleepy. Were they running out of oxygen? Also —

“You didn’t take my earrings,” Ladybug murmured, soft and slow and confused. “You’ve had all this time…you could just grab them if you wanted to.” She turned her head, smiling mischievously. “Does this mean you’ve stopped drinking the Kool Aid? Is it all a show now?”

He glanced at her quickly, meeting her gaze for only an instant. “Well, I made the mistake of fraternizing with the enemy.” She watched him swallow, watched him turn his gaze emotionlessly up at ceiling. “You deserve a fair fight.”

Ladybug twisted further to glimpse him, her shoulder brushing against his, her elbow at the small of his back. “I mean, this is fair! The arena is just, you know... _really small_.”

A piercing beep. She felt more than saw his entire body tense. And when she stretched, turned her head a little farther — she caught the second to last of his green paw prints flicker and disappear.

_One minute._

“You’re right,” Ladybug said after a moment.  “Not fair at all.”

Her Lucky Charm bounced off the thatched roof of the dome and hit him in the head, but they unwrapped the spotted blowtorch together.

 

-o-

 

She tensed her arm, held it close — but not close enough for it to phase into her stomach. She had already experienced that unique situation when dodging another of Pixelator’s beams.

Okay. Okay, a compact. Mirrors reflect light. Cameras use light to take photos. But how would she get the charm into position?

Ladybug followed the trajectory of the plan with her gaze, leaning farther out from behind her cover without putting pressure on her useless leg. Here, and there, so she would need —

Chat Noir’s baton. She blinked, and then looked at his face. His eyes was fixed on the akuma, brow pinched in battle. Wary. He’d already been shot by Pixelator, already destroyed the pocket dimension. He should be looking for her, not distrusting the akuma. She should be strategizing, not staring at him.

As she watched, his gaze flicked over to her, and again. Ladybug watched him open his mouth, watched him look back and forth from the akuma, his eyes widen. Distantly, she heard the low whir of Pixelator’s beam.

In a breath he was in front of her. In an instant she threw her arms around him. And when she opened her eyes again, the akuma pixelated, shuddered, and disappeared. Ladybug turned her hand, smiled down at the compact mirror in her palm.

Chat Noir breathed noisily into her ear. She pushed away from him. Tossed the compact. Purified the butterfly. And when she turned back to him at last, he was running.

“Oh no,” she murmured, taking off after him. “Not this time.”

He lifted off into the sky, and she followed.

“Chat Noir!” Ladybug yelled, sling-shotting herself above the rooftops. He glanced over her his shoulder as he ran. And he looked away, ran faster.

He was _not_ doing this to her. He was not.

Ladybug launched herself again, flying ahead at higher velocity. If she could just outspeed him—

Her control was lacking, but her aim was true. Gravity pulled her to him: fast, and faster.

They collided, tumbled, tangled. And then they were hanging, swaying upside-down above the empty street.

“S-sorry,” Ladybug stuttered, as he let himself down. “I didn’t mean to do that.” She took his offered hand and stood up.

“Please look at me,” she asked. But he didn’t — only stared inscrutably at the other end of the alley.

Her earrings beeped. Shrill.

“You helped me today. Thank you.” Ladybug took a step closer. “I mean it.” And another. “I want to help you, too, Chat. We can free you from Papillon. There’s gotta be a way—”

“Help me?” Chat Noir uttered, quiet and calm, “If you really wanted to help me…” He lifted his head to look at her, jaw set, eyes flashing. Unearthly green and deep black and pure magic. “...you would give me your miraculous!”

Ladybug stilled.

“I—”

“But you’re not going to do that.” His voice tore through the air in hot accusation. And it was like ignition, the way her own anger flared with his. He was not going to do this. He was not doing this to her again.

Ladybug pursed her lips, stepping forward. “No, _you_ wouldn’t do that. You’ve had opportunity. But you don’t want them. You don’t want to help him.”

Chat Noir nodded, slowly. “I don’t,” he swallowed. “I don’t know how to stop him,” he said, choking on it.

His ring beeped.

“Help _me_.” Ladybug stepped closer. She closed and opened her eyes, and he didn’t flinch, didn’t shy away. Yes, he was afraid. But he wasn’t afraid of her. The burning truth of that made her unbearably certain, made her reach out and take his hand in hers.

“You — you feel it, yeah?” Ladybug peered up into his face. “It’s not like anything else.” A smile tugged persistently at the corner of her mouth. She brought their hands up, held him close to her heart. “Before we even knew each other, it’s like...I missed you.” She watched his head dip, watched him lean purposefully towards their entwined hands. “And when you’re here — close, like this,” Ladybug murmured, “...I can feel it.”

“We’re meant to be together,” he whispered, painfully quiet. His cheek brushed hers and his voice shook and overflowed. Like longing and sorrow and undeniable relief, but she can’t parse any of it, can’t quite identify which wheel is turning, which road they’re on now.

Slowly, she turned her head, trying to get a glimpse of his face.  

“I’m sor—”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, his grip tightening on her hand. And without a beat to pause in, he said, “He’s my father.”

“Oh.”  Her missing variable, making sense of all the battles past. Oh. His stubbornness, his loyalty. His fear. Never of her. Of course, never of her.

Chat Noir swallowed. She felt hot breath on her neck.

“But I’m not alone. I’m not alone without him.”

Ladybug shook her head slowly. Her other arm rose slowly, encircled his waist, holding him to her. “No,” she said. “No, you’re not.”

 

-o-

 

“Give me a moment. A minute,” Marinette said, gripping his shoulder. “I promise, it’ll only be a minute. I just have to explain the situation.”

The blonde boy rolled his head doubtfully. “The situation is ridiculous. They’ll never believe it.”

“Hey. Look at me.” She tugged at his sleeve, and he lifted his head, frowning. He still looked criminally familiar, but she couldn’t place him. Looking at him, she couldn’t even remember his akumatization. “I’ve got a plan, okay? Remember? I’m the one with the plans.”

He nodded dutifully, his hair falling in his face. God, she had to have seen him before, somewhere. Well, of course she had _seen_ him — as Chat Noir. That had to be it. There was no other reason he should look so familiar.

Marinette peered around the corner. No customers at the _boulangerie_. Okay. They could do this. “I’m not going to tell them about the miraculouses. I’m just going to tell them you’re a friend who needs a place to sleep tonight. My parents won’t say no to that. And you...you’re new to school. Your hotel fell through, and then—”

“And then you’ll come back.” His look was too intense. Too earnest. But he wasn’t backing down, and he wasn’t running away. He was standing with her. He was part of her plan.

Marinette smiled, took his hand. “And then I’ll come back, silly kitty.”

She squeezed his hand once, and let him go. “Okay. We’re doing this.” She stepped out of the alley, and immediately paused, whipping her head back to look at him.

“Wait, what’s your name?”

 

-o-

 

Fu told them to meet him in Chinatown. Said if he was going to house another miraculous wielder, he had to move apartments. Become anonymous again.

Of course, it helped that Adrien Agreste spoke perfect Mandarin. At least, it sounded perfect to Marinette’s ignorant ear. But she wasn’t going to let herself think about it — about him, not yet. She wasn’t going to think about the highly educated, highly isolated heir of her (former) designer idol. Not yet. Not when they had to keep moving.

Adrien ended up being their navigator through the rain-swept streets, the two of them sharing her black umbrella, hunched over Master Fu’s written instruction.

The guardian of the miraculous welcomed them warmly into his new home. Marinette had hoped he would be pleased with her success, but underneath his hospitable smile was an urgency she recognized, a dread she had felt herself ever since Chat Noir stepped in front of Pixelator’s butterfly-framed eyeline.

“Sit down, sit down,” encouraged Fu. He poured them tea. Wayzz hovered nearby, offering a tray of cookies and camembert to Tikki and Plagg. The kwamis buzzed together, dancing around each other in endless circles.

“Thank you,” Fu said. “Adrien. Thank you for trusting us. I know you take great risk choosing us.”

Adrien sought her hand under the table. Marinette gripped his hand, nodded reassuringly at his wide-eyed uncertainty.

Fu sipped his tea contemplatively. “We have a great fight ahead of us. Papillon will know by now, of course. We need to be ready.”

Marinette nodded, breathed through the flashing anxiety, looking at the boy beside her. This was happening. Everything before had been preparation for this. For the battle ahead. She needed to protect him now. She would protect him now. And he would protect her. Because they were partners. Never again. Never again would they fight alone.

Adrien swallowed, solemn and pale in profile. But determination hardened his countenance. He was sure of his purpose, now. And to the list of Things She Knew About Chat Noir, right below _loyal_ and _too sensitive for his own good_ and _loves her father’s baking,_ Marinette added: _brave._

And then Adrien spoke:

“He wants to revive my mother.”

 

-o-

 

_when the **fears** are a swarm in the hive of your mind_

_when the tears of **your love** and **your loss** are entwined_

_I’ll be everywhere you go_

_in my simplified world, I’m a beautiful girl_

_in my house on the hill, there is room for you still_

_I’ll be **everywhere** you go_

**Author's Note:**

> other people's enemies au: sexy, fun, banter  
> me, thinking for two seconds about what chat noir working for papillon would mean: oh......no...........
> 
> say hello on [tumblr](http://marinxttes.tumblr.com)


End file.
